


For Spontaneity's Sake

by sushibomb



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M, can this really be called a drabble, fic-trade!, late night adventures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:30:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9323681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushibomb/pseuds/sushibomb
Summary: “Yuuri…” Viktor’s voice is low and his embrace is warm. Yuuri eventually sighs into it; his head falls back until his cheek is resting on Viktor’s hair. “...St. Petersburg is so beautiful at night.”“We can see it from the window of our apartment.” Yuuri says, amused.A sigh and a laugh and the fingers woven with his tighten. Yuuri can just barely feel Viktor’s thumb smoothing down the side of his hand through his gloves. “Yeah, we could, but it’s not the same.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [perennials](https://archiveofourown.org/users/perennials/gifts).



> For @nikiforcvs on Twitter! Enjoy Elmo!! I hope you like it :DDD

When Viktor had said that he wanted to show Yuuri around St. Petersburg, Yuuri had assumed that meant a proper tour. One that was guided, complete with the old guy with the microphone, droning on about the sights and pointing out the windows of a bus while all the tourists took pictures on those crappy disposable cameras, and with a set itinerary, that would be taking place in the daytime. He did  _ not  _ expect Viktor to burst into the living room at nearly one in the morning, already bundled in several layers of clothing, whining about being bored. Yuuri also did not expect to be hauled up off the couch by the hood of his sweater and literally stuffed into his own heavy-duty winter coat before being ushered out the door and into the harsh Russian cold. 

And yet here he is, walking hand-in-hand with his fiance and coach, for a spontaneous jaunt around town. 

Yuuri has never been one for jaunting, let alone spontaneously. 

But Viktor’s fingers are tightly interwoven with his own, and the warmth that radiates through his glove is somewhat comforting against the brisk chill of the night air, so Yuuri shrugs down into his scarf -- _ Viktor’s _ scarf-- to shield his already reddened nose from the wind and lets Viktor tug him along, out of his neighborhood and down the boulevard of pubs and drunken youth out for a night on the town. 

Though it is not without protest. 

“I know you love being spontaneous, but this really could’ve waited until tomorrow,” Yuuri says, voice muffled by the thick material. Another gust of wind blows past them and Yuuri pinches his eyes shut with a whine. Hasetsu was cold, but St. Petersburg is  _ cold.  _ It’s been around three weeks since he and Viktor moved in together, and Yuuri has yet to get used to the bone-chilling temperature. Truthfully, he doubts he ever really will. His teeth chatter uncontrollably and Yuuri pulls the scarf higher up, until it covers his mouth and nose. 

Viktor curls against him, his laughter like soft chimes in the high-pitched howl of the wind. 

“Oh, come on Yuuri,” He sing-songs over Yuuri’s low groan, “Don’t be a pill. Those guided tours are so stuffy."

“Viktor…”

Viktor turns to him with that pout that brings men to their knees, eyes already wobbling with unshed tears. Yuuri averts his eyes, refusing to give in. He’s been won over with that damned look too many times already. 

Not one to be ignored, Viktor presses even closer, wrapping himself around Yuuri so tightly that they have to stop walking; either that or they topple over right onto the icy walkway beneath them. Viktor’s breath is warm on Yuuri’s skin as he promptly shoves his face into the crook of his neck, nuzzling him until Yuuri cracks a grin and starts fidgeting in his grip.  

“Yuuri…” Viktor’s voice is low and his embrace is warm. Yuuri eventually sighs into it; his head falls back until his cheek is resting on Viktor’s hair. “...St. Petersburg is so beautiful at night.”   

“We can see it from the window of our apartment.” Yuuri says, amused.

A sigh and a laugh and the fingers woven with his tighten. Yuuri can just barely feel Viktor’s thumb smoothing down the side of his hand through his gloves. “Yeah, we could, but it’s not the same.”

“But it’s warmer.”

Viktor doesn’t respond to that, other than one of his million-watt smiles and a whimsical hum as he releases his hold on Yuuri and continues to pull him along the street. “We’ll only walk for a little bit then. I just want you to see something first. Is that okay?”  

Yuuri thinks on it for a second, but Viktor is staring back at him so expectantly that he can no longer find it in himself to argue. So he doesn’t. “Alright, that sounds fair.”

Beaming, Viktor throws an arm over Yuuri’s shoulders and pulls him in close, pressing a wet, happy kiss to a rosy cheek. Yuuri laughs it off and drapes his arm around Viktor’s waist, and the two continue on down the street in comfortable silence. 

They draw a lot of attention as they saunter down the street, particularly from female fans of Viktor’s who holler for autographs and hugs. He is Russia’s hero, and it’s never been more clear to Yuuri than it is right now. A sense of pride in his fiance wells up in him; Yuuri can’t resist pulling him in for a deep, tender kiss once they’re finally out of sight. 

“I love you,” He murmurs against Viktor’s lips once they part. 

“I love you too,” Viktor replies softly, brushing his nose against Yuuri’s. Viktor is extremely fond of Eskimo kisses, Yuuri has learned. He sighs happily, lets his fingers curl in Viktor’s silver hair as he pulls him in for another kiss. 

“We’re almost there,” Viktor says a bit later, when they decide to keep walking or risk their lips freezing together. Yuuri is certain it’s that cold. 

“Where are we going?” Yuuri asks, wiping condensation off of his glasses. 

“A park nearby.”

“A park?” Yuuri parrots. Viktor nods, smiling. 

“Yep. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

**

As it turns out, Viktor’s idea of ‘nearby’ is a park that is on an island that is a ferry ride away. Viktor's expression is nothing if not sheepish when Yuuri points this out to him, but as they walk past the extravagant palace, towards the parklands, Yuuri’s curiosity eventually begins to get the better of him. The grounds are huge and well-kept, and Yuuri listens intently as Viktor explains the history of the island, and of the large palace. 

The park has been closed for the better part of two hours by the time they arrive at their destination, but one of the caretakers  on the grounds waves at Viktor and points him in the direction of what looks like a renting booth.

After a brief but seemingly friendly exchange in Russian, Viktor bids them goodbye, and calls for Yuuri to follow him. So he does, now genuinely interested in what they’re doing here.

And as they get closer, Yuuri’s jaw drops. 

Beyond a border of tall conifers, he spots the wooden fencing of an outdoor skating rink. The lights around it come on; Yuuri whips around at Viktor’s excited call from the controls. “Isn’t it beautiful?” He asks, waving. 

Beautiful is definitely an understatement. 

The surface is perfectly smooth; it’s just been resurfaced from what he can tell, and Yuuri is itching to get some skates on.

“Here you go, love,” Viktor’s voice floats into his ears, and Yuuri turns. A pair of skates are thrust excitedly into his arms, and Yuuri can’t keep himself from grinning back. Viktor’s enthusiasm is infectious. “Sorry you have to use rented skates. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“That’s okay, Viktor,”Yuuri assures him as he trades his thick boots for the rental skates, “I'm glad you didn't tell me. This was worth the trip.”

It’s so smooth; the smoothest surface Yuuri has ever skated on. He glides across the ice, eyes drifting shut like he’s floating over the ice and into a dream. Instead he floats right into Viktor’s open arms, and the taller man steals a quick kiss. The rink is silent except for their laughter and the sound of blades shifting ice. 

“Do you like it here?” Viktor asks, fingers lacing with Yuuri’s. Yuuri is the one to pull him close this time, and they drift backwards along the ice, the way they do in their pair skates, fingers caressing cheeks and carding through hair. It’s intimate, it’s warm, and despite the frigid temperate, Yuuri feels perfectly fine now. He quickly sheds his outermost coat, tossing it over one of the wooden posts nearby as they glide by. Viktor follows his lead.

“I love it.”

“I used to practice here,” Viktor tells him, twirls him, laughing. “When I was younger, this was my favorite place to come and skate in the winter. Once I went professional, I didn’t get to come as much, but the caretakers still let me in after hours to skate.”   

Yuuri smiles fondly. “It’s your Ice Castle.”

Viktor blinks for a moment, before a hazy smile bows his lips. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

They come to a stop in the middle of the rink after a long while, breaths coming out in puffs and cheeks red from the cold. Viktor drapes himself over Yuuri in an embrace. “Are you ready to head back?” 

Yuuri hums and then suddenly Viktor finds himself stumbling forward when Yuuri spins out of his grip and glides away backwards, grinning impishly. 

“Suddenly, I don’t think I’m ready to leave just yet.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> FYI: the place they're at is called Yelagin or Elagin Island, [here's](http://www.saint-petersburg.com/islands/yelagin-ostrov/) the site I used for reference! 
> 
> Kudos n' Comments Fuel Me!!
> 
> hmu on twitter @sushib0mb if you wanna yell!


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